


forgot how to be alone

by UnrememberedSkies



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Ben is also there... tangentially, Crying, Domesticity, Five and Klaus don't know how to function like adults, Five and Klaus get an apartment together, Gen, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Trauma, don't let them see you cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrememberedSkies/pseuds/UnrememberedSkies
Summary: Five and Klaus get an apartment together and have a go at living a normal life. Five discovers that it's better to not look back.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691854
Comments: 26
Kudos: 294





	forgot how to be alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stabbyumbrella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stabbyumbrella/gifts).



> Another super delayed Bad Thing Prompt! This one is Five & Klaus: don't let them see you cry. If you like my fic, or want to talk all things Umbrella Academy, please come and talk to me on [Tumblr](https://unrememberedskies.tumblr.com/).

Once Klaus has haphazardly shoved all of his clothes in the wardrobe, and Five has laid out his notebooks on his desk with serial killer precision, they stand in their new living room, both feeling a little lost.

“We must have more stuff than this,” Klaus says, looking around as though expecting belongings to materialise before his eyes.

“Must we?” Five replies, eying the empty shelves of the dresser where he assumes ornaments and photographs of loved ones are supposed to reside.

“Just seems a bit sad, doesn’t it?”

Eighty eight years of combined lived experience and there’s not enough evidence to fill even this tiny apartment – it is a little sad, Five has to admit.

“I guess living in the apocalypse and living on the streets don’t make for many worldly possessions,” he says thoughtfully. He watches as Klaus flops down on their sofa, feet up against the arm. Better nip that behaviour in the bud. Five comes round and pushes Klaus’s feet onto the floor. Klaus makes an ‘oomph’ noise of protest, as Five sits in the newly vacated spot. “No feet on the sofa.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Klaus says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Five gives him a narrow-eyed glare. “If you’ve changed your mind, now would be the time to leave.”

Klaus snorts, bringing up his feet again, this time to rest across Five’s lap. Five shoves him off with even more force. “Nope, I said I’d give it a go and I will.” He raises an eyebrow. “Besides, you can’t live here on your own.”

Five’s lip curls at the reminder that he is still in this irritatingly pubescent body. “I’m sure Luther wouldn’t mind moving in with me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, old man,” Klaus says, in a sing-song voice that implies he knows something Five doesn’t. Five bristles. “Last I heard, Luther was going backpacking round Europe.”

Five blinks, blindsided. “What?”

“Oh yeah. Living that gap year dream.”

Five takes a minute to process this information. Certainly, he often makes decisions without bringing it before the ridiculous family court, but the thought of Luther doing the same unsettles him slightly. It feels like the family is drifting away again before he’s even had the chance to get to know them as adults.

Klaus seems to take his silence as an opportunity to put his feet back up, and just as they rest across his lap, Five blinks away and into his bedroom, hearing Klaus’s indignant cry through the wall. 

He goes to his desk that he’s set up in front of the window. Sitting, he brings the first notebook to him, eyes flickering over the pages full of equations. Now that he has his own place, it is time to focus seriously on his primary goal – getting his adult body back. He turns the page, frowns as he spots an incorrect symbol. Scratching it out, he scribbles in the correct one, before turning the page again.

He loses hours like that, and it is only the sound of banging in the next room that alerts him to the fact that dusk has fallen and that he is working in the dark. He gets up to investigate the source of the banging, going into Klaus’ room through the door, so as not to startle him.

Klaus is stood on his bed, banging nails into the wall before wrapping fairy lights around them, strung like a spell of protection over his bed.

“Make sure you don’t hit a pipe,” Five says, leaning against the doorframe.

Klaus twists round from where he’s holding the lights against the wall. He looks bemused. “How am I supposed to know if there’s a pipe there?”

Five blinks, before shrugging. “I don’t know, I’m just telling you to keep an eye out.”

“Wow,” Klaus says, returning to what he was doing, “the Property Brothers ain’t got nothing on us.”

Five nearly walks away at that. Instead, he holds his temper. “You hungry? I can order in some pizza.”

“Olives and pineapple on mine, please.”

Five gives the back of Klaus’s head a long, level look. “You’re an abomination,” he says, before turning and blinking into the kitchen. He can hear Klaus’s laughter down the hallway.

Diego gave them a bundle of takeout menus with the assurance that they would be a lifesaver. Five had bristled at the idea at the time.

“We’re not going to live on takeout, Diego. It’s unhealthy and needlessly extravagant.”

Diego had only given him an amused look. “So you’re going to cook, then? _You_ ,” he’d said with emphasis, “and _Klaus_?” The bastard had walked off laughing more heartily than Five had ever seen him laugh. And Five had barely resisted throwing something at him.

Now, though, the thought of cooking something from scratch seems a much more daunting task, and Five reasons with himself that for their first night, getting takeout would not be unreasonable.

So he orders the pizza, and nearly has a full-blown row with the woman on the phone when she asks him to put his mom or dad on to make the payment. Then he sits on the couch and sulks. Klaus emerges ten minutes later, coming up behind Five and patting his shoulders, rubbing his hands on his back in a frankly disturbing way.

“What are you doing?”

Klaus flops down on the settee, because apparently, he can’t sit down like a normal person. “We forgot towels.”

“Shit.” Klaus makes a noise of agreement, and puts his feet up on the coffee table. “Get your feet off there!”

Klaus groans theatrically. “I can’t put them on the sofa, can’t put them on the table. Where am I supposed to put them?”

“On the floor, like a normal person.”

Klaus rolls his eyes and puts his feet on the floor. There is silence for a few blissful seconds before- “This is horrible. I’m so uncomfortable.”

Choosing not to answer, Five blinks into his bedroom to grab some paper, before returning and writing ‘towels’ at the top. “What else do we need?”

With great difficulty, they begin to compile a list of things for the apartment, continuing when the pizza arrives. Five finds it surprisingly difficult to identify what is actually a necessity and what is Klaus getting carried away. “Remind me why we need a slow cooker again?”

“Oh,” Klaus says, rolling his eyes back as he bites into his monstrosity of a pizza. “You haven’t lived if you’ve not tried slow-cooked food. Osso buco guy used a slow cooker and my _God_ that meat was so tender it just melted in your mouth.”

“Who?” Five says blankly.

Klaus straightens. “Oh yeah,” he says. “I forgot you disappeared on me while I was telling you about that.”

“When was this?” Five feels like he’d remember a conversation like that.

“Oh, you know, when we were having that heart to heart outside of that lab. And you were so uninterested in my life that you flashed away into a taxi while I was speaking.”

Oh. _That_ time. Five winces slightly. “It wasn’t that I was uninterested,” he says, not looking at Klaus. “I was just distracted by the impending apocalypse.”

“Yeah, I know,” Klaus replies, although he sounds a bit subdued as he returns to picking at his pizza. When he’s sure Klaus has turned away, Five chances a look at him. He wants to say something, apologise, ask him about osso buco guy, _anything_ , but his mouth won’t cooperate.

“Cutlery,” Klaus says, a few minutes later, tapping on the list with greasy fingers. “Anything other than pizza might be tricky without that.”

Five nods and adds it to the list. He sits back and reads through the list thoughtfully. “Do you think other people would have thought of this stuff before they moved in?” he asks.

Klaus shrugs, taking a sip from his can of Coke. “I dunno, maybe? I’m pretty sure Diego still uses plastic cutlery.”

“Diego lives in a boiler room. He’s hardly the best frame of reference.”

“Our family is the only frame of reference I have, unfortunately. I've never spend time a lot of time with people who have their shit together.”

Five looks down at his two remaining slices. “No, me neither.” 

After they finish their pizza, and watched sitcom reruns for a couple of hours, Five excuses himself to bed. He’s not tired, as such – he doesn’t feel tiredness like other people, he’s discovered since returning to 2019. Usually, he would keep going until he dropped with physical exhaustion. But it occurs to him that this is perhaps not the healthiest of habits so he is trying to implement a consistent sleep schedule.

It is turning out to be a formidable task, because although his mind his determined, his body is resistant. Five lies in his bed and looks up at the ceiling. He hears Klaus’s soft footsteps when he leaves the living room for his bedroom. He hears him talking quietly, apparently to himself, but more likely, Five realises, to Ben. It is strange to think there are three of them sharing the space but one of them is invisible to him.

He hears when Klaus finally stops speaking and deduces he must have fallen asleep. Without that, the sounds of traffic outside become more apparent, and Five listens to that, and the sound of the wind rustling the leaves of the tree outside the building. Time ticks slowly by…

There’s ash in his lungs. His mouth is covered by a scarf and it is uncomfortably warm against his face but the ash has still found its way in. It coats the inside of his throat and clogs his lungs and he can’t breathe, _he can’t breathe_. The world was burning and the remnants of the human race, of his siblings, catch in the breeze like blossoms. Five breathes them in and tastes death…

Five opens his eyes to the shape of a stranger in the darkness. Lightning quick, he slips the knife from under his pillow and presses it to the stranger’s throat.

“Five!” the stranger gasps, and it filters through Five’s fractured consciousness that the voice belongs to Klaus. The trembling frame at the mercy of Five’s blade belongs to Klaus.

Realisation comes flooding back, and Five snatches the knife away. “Shit.” He drops it up near his pillow. “Shit, Klaus. I’m sorry.”

“You were shouting in your sleep,” Klaus says softly. “I was trying to wake you from whatever was upsetting you.”

Five puts the heel of his hand to his forehead and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

Klaus shakes his head, wide-eyed. “No, Five, I wasn’t-”

“You probably shouldn’t come into my room when I’m asleep,” Five says tiredly. “I might hurt you.” 

Klaus’s mouth opens like he wants to say something, but then closes it softly. He looks at Five with piercing eyes that look black in the low light. He reaches towards Five, like he wants to put a hand on his arm, before hesitating and dropping it back into his own lap. “Okay,” he says. “Good night, Five.”

“Good night,” Five says stiffly, clutching the sheets to himself until Klaus closes the door behind him. As it clicks, Five drops the covers and presses his face into the palms of his hands. He stays there until his neck starts to ache, then lies back down and stares up at the ceiling until morning.

When it is a reasonable time to get up, Five flashes into the kitchen to make coffee. His coffee maker takes pride of place on the counter, and is the one extravagance Five has allowed himself since his return. He winces as it begins to grind the beans, hoping it doesn’t wake Klaus. The small distance between the kitchen and the bedrooms is something Five will have to get used to. Back at the Academy, there are two floors separating those rooms.

Apparently Klaus sleeps like the dead, because Five has time to drink his first cup of coffee, nip down to buy a newspaper from the newsstand across the street, and is well into his second cup and the newspaper by the time Klaus finally emerges, yawning widely. 

When he discovers they have no milk or sugar to add to coffee, he settles for a glass of water and comes over to sit with Five in the living room. He carefully scratches ‘milk’ and ‘sugar’ onto the list before curling up on the floor, bringing his knee up to his chest and resting his glass on it.

Five drags his eyes away from his paper to marvel at how Klaus is utterly incapable of sitting like a human being before returning the article he is reading.

“Can I have the funnies?” Klaus asks, after a couple of minutes.

Five lowers the paper again, giving Klaus an inquisitive look. “Seriously?”

Klaus nods, eyes wide and guileless, so Five extracts the comics from the paper and hands them to him. He continues to watch him over the top of the newspaper as Klaus quietly laughs at what he’s reading, and tilts the paper away from Five, to his other side, presumably so Ben can read it. 

It’s an unexpectedly pleasant way to spend the morning; Five hadn’t thought Klaus capable of being so quiet and calm. But the young man sat next to him is not the precocious boy he knew, or even the obnoxious addict he met on his return. This new, sober Klaus is a little quieter, more uncertain, at times, more prone to introspection than he has ever been previously.

It occurs to Five that he is not the only one trying to figure out how to live.

With this revelation in mind, he finds himself extending a little more patience towards his brother, even as Klaus wakes up a bit more and starts to tease Five again.

Later that morning, they get into Reginald’s car, which Five doesn’t particularly like leaving on the street, but the apartment doesn’t come with a garage and he’s not sure how buying his own car would go. Klaus clutches their extensive list as he plugs his seatbelt in.

“This is going to cost a fortune,” he remarks with a whistle, as he reads through the list.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve budgeted for it,” Five says turning on the gas. “Where to?”

Klaus pulls a face, looking out of the window for inspiration. “I guess a department store would be our best bet. Get everything under one roof.”

Five’s heart does something strange in his chest. He swallows, already regretting what he’s about to say. “I know a place.”

He drives them to Gimbel Brothers, his palms sweaty on the steering wheel. Klaus fiddles with the radio tuner until he settles on some dour and depressing modern music, singing along quietly as he stares out of the window.

They pull into the parking lot and get out of the car. Five looks up at the sign over the entrance with a nervous anticipation that feels a lot like nausea. They go through the doors, and Five is once again disoriented by the bright lights and the number of shoppers, nothing like the dark quiet of when he came to find her.

While he’s been caught up in memory, Klaus has already located a shopping cart, and is looking down at their list. “You’ve just put ‘cooking utensils’ here. Care to be a bit more specific?”

Five looks at him blankly, going back over what Klaus has just said. “Just get a selection,” he says, with a shrug. Klaus gives him a strange look before trotting off towards the kitchen section. Five follows at a more sedate pace.

He can feel Klaus getting irritated at him when he responds to his questions with monosyllabic answers, never quite hearing what Klaus said the first time. This was a mistake; there are other department stores in the city, he didn’t need to come here.

The pull is almost too much to bear. He made a decision that day, that they would go their separate ways, and would look back on their time together fondly, but could never go back. They have a second chance for a fresh start, they’re different people now, and they both have to learn how to live without each other.

One last look wouldn’t hurt. One last glimpse of that knowing smile and gentle eyes. Five swallows, and looks over to where Klaus is debating the merits of different sized whisks with the empty space next to him.

Five comes to a decision. He turns and heads towards the clothing department.

He walks through the rows of jeans and trousers. Up ahead there is a ladies clothing display. He scans the faces of the models, but none match the one he is looking for. Something heavy settling in the pit of his stomach, he works his way around each display, circling the figures, narrowing his eyes at their still faces.

“Can I help you, young man?”

He freezes at the sound of the kindly voice. He turns and looks at the shopworker. She smiles broadly at him. “Are you looking for something specific?”

He glances at the display before turning back to her. “Yes, actually. I was looking for a particular mannequin. She has blue eyes and-” He gestures down at his middle before stopping, feeling foolish. “Never mind, she’s probably gone.”

He can’t stand the bemused look in the saleswoman’s eyes, so he turns on his heel, and the moment he’s out of sight, flashes back to the car. His hands are shaking as he opens the door and slides inside. Closing the door behind him, he sits back and tries to catch his breath. There’s a horrible tightness in his chest, and a lump in his throat.

He grips the steering wheel as tightly as he can, trying to breathe through whatever this is. To his horror, his eyes are burning, like he has allergies or something, and he forces his eyes wide open, to try and dissipate the treacherous moisture that has gathered there.

He knew it was possible. He knew she might move on. 

He shouldn’t have gone back. He was a fool to go back. He should know by now that trying to recapture the past is a fool’s errand, and leads only to misery and heartbreak.

Because his heart is breaking, he can feel it cracking in two. He rests his head against the steering wheel and gravity does its work: hot tears roll down his cheeks. His breath catches as he tries to draw in air, and he involuntarily makes a noise in his throat, lost and bereft. 

There is the sound of the car door opening. “There you are, I wondered where you got to-”

Five quickly brushes at his eyes with the back of his hand, swiping the evidence away.

“- I mean, you could tell me when you’ve had enough retail therapy. I had to put everything on the credit card Allison gave me for emergencies and she is _not_ going to be happy about- Five?”

Five busies himself by putting on his seatbelt.

“Five, are you- are you okay?”

Five can’t look at him, because he can’t trust himself not to start crying again. “I’m fine,” he says curtly. “Are you done?” He can see how thrown Klaus is by his behaviour, but can’t bring himself to put on more of an act than he already is.

“Well, I- I didn’t get everything on the list because I didn’t know where you’d gone.”

“We’ll get the rest another day.” Five puts the car into gear and speeds out of the parking lot with more acceleration than necessary. He can feel Klaus looking at him, can even picture the look of curious pity on his brother’s expressive face. He doesn’t need that; he steadfastly looks ahead at the road.

As soon as he’s pulled up outside the apartment, Five blinks out of the car to the stairs. He takes them two at a time, before flashing inside the apartment, into his bedroom. Once he’s there, he allows himself to breathe again. His lungs don’t seem to be doing their job and he struggles to catch his breath, even as the tears force their way up his throat, and he screws up his face as they come rolling out.

Five allows himself a moment to weep freely before he brushes them away once more, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He grips the edge of his mattress tightly until some of the ache eases, and he stares across at the window, looks at the swaying branches of the tree, and the brick wall of the building opposite.

He is distancing himself from reality, taking his emotions and placing them separate to himself, when there is a cautious knock on his door.

“Five?”

He debates with himself whether to answer, and it is only when he’s sure his voice won’t crack that he responds, “What?”

“Can I come in?” This time, Five’s hesitation is too long. Klaus continues. “Or do you want me to go away?”

“No,” Five says, before he can work out which question he’s answering.

Klaus seems equally confused. “No, I can’t come in, or no, you don’t want me to go away?”

“The second,” Five calls back. There is more hesitation. “I don’t want you to go away,” he clarifies.

The door opens, and Klaus peeps through uncertainly. “Do you…?” He trails off.

“Come in, Klaus,” Five says, suddenly feeling very weary.

Klaus creeps in like he’s afraid of disturbing Five, and he looks at him like he’s a wounded animal, ready to lash out at anyone that gets too close. Five looks down at his knees, because he’s too tired to do all the work for Klaus.

Fortunately, Klaus decides fairly quickly to take a seat on the bed next to Five, far away enough not to smother him, but close enough that Five feels comforted by the proximity. “What happened?” Klaus asks gently.

Five almost can’t stand it, automatically bristling at the thought of being condescended to, of being seen as weak. But Klaus isn’t look at him like he’s weak, or like he thinks he’s better than Five, Klaus just looks upset and curious.

“She’s gone,” Five says, and it feels like a knife to the heart, saying it out loud.

There is silence for a moment, and Five thinks Klaus’s next question will be ‘who?’ 

“Delores,” Klaus says instead, and when Five looks up at his face he’s sees regret and sympathy there. “I’m sorry, Five.”

“I knew it would happen,” Five says, talking to his knees. “But seeing it for myself… I was stupid.”

Klaus’s hand comes out and tentatively rests on Five’s shoulder, his thumb making circular motions across his shirt. “You wanted to see her again,” he says. “Who could blame you for that?”

“We agreed to part ways,” Five says. “I was weak.”

“No,” Klaus says, shaking his head. “She means a lot to you.”

Five closes his eyes tightly, unable to bear Klaus’s gentle understanding. “I know you all think I’m crazy,” he says, trying to latch on to anger to rid himself of this terrible feeling of desolation.

Klaus leans in, face serious. “Have any of us ever said that?”

“Not to my face.”

“I understand,” Klaus says, and suddenly his hand is on Five’s. Five stares down at it, confused. “Delores… she was your Ben.”

Five looks up at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“No one ever tells you how lonely it is on the streets,” Klaus says, and he looks upwards, “and God, I was so lonely. But Ben, he was there for me, he was someone I could talk to, he pushed me to look after myself, made me want to keep going, even in the darkest days.” Klaus squeezes his hand. “Does that sound like Delores?”

Tears are clogging up Five’s throat again, so he can only nod wordlessly at Klaus.

Klaus smiles, and his own eyes look a little wet. “People like us need people like Delores and Ben to… to take care of us when we can’t do it ourselves, to stay with us no matter what, to be there when no one else is.”

“But now she’s gone,” Five says.

“Yeah,” Klaus says, nodding slowly, his grip on Five’s hand tightening. “You and Delores parted ways because you knew you had to be strong without her. But that doesn’t mean you have to be strong all on your own.”

Five looks down at their joined hands, tears forgotten. He looks up and tilts his head questioningly.

“I can be what you need me to be,” Klaus says. “I can do what Delores did for you.” He hesitates, frowning. “Unless it’s some weird sex stuff.”

Five gives an involuntary bark of laughter, and blushes red and ducks his head when Klaus grins at him. “If you ever need someone to talk to, or bounce ideas off, or just keep you company, I can do that. I can’t promise I’ll be able to remind you to eat, or notice when you’re getting into bad habits, because I’m not very good at doing that for myself, but I’ll help in any way I can.”

“We can help each other,” Five says, fastidiously avoiding Klaus’s gaze. “If Ben ever needs a break or anything.”

Klaus grimaces. “Don’t let him hear you say that,” he says. “He’d be off on a beach somewhere sipping ghostly pina coladas before you could say ‘have a KitKat’. We’d never see him again.”

Five laughs again, and wonders if Klaus’s ability to always make people laugh is his true superpower. He finally looks up at Klaus. “This is why I asked you.”

Klaus blinks in confusion. “What?”

“This is why I asked you to move in with me, and not Luther, or Vanya.”

Klaus’s face slowly breaks out into a wide smile. He lunges forward, dragging Five into a bear hug, and Five squeezes him back tightly. Klaus doesn’t complain. He brings his mouth to Five’s ear. “I love you, too, old man.”

Five’s face is pressed too closely into Klaus’s bony shoulder to even consider blushing, so he simply smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about these two as flatmates for a while now, because these are two people who have zero experience functioning as 'normal' adults and I love the idea of them hepling each other muddle through. I may write more fic in this universe, if the mood strikes and there's any reader interest.
> 
> Also, fun fact, olives and pineapple are my favourite pizza toppings and I get so much grief for it, but it's the best and everyone else is wrong.
> 
> As usual, comments and kudos make me so happy, you would not believe.


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